


Before and after, between

by starboygoku



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Anthology, F/M, just tagging all the versions of them because they will all appear at one point or another
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:06:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25774069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starboygoku/pseuds/starboygoku
Summary: “How often have you wondered about the life you could have lived?”“Only once.”“Only?”“Wishing never captured my attention like it did yours.”“I’m done with wishes now. I’ve been done with them. But sometimes I think I’m not done with wondering.”“About us?”“About everything. But never us. That’s my only certainty.”A collection of short stories, most of which stand alone, regarding Trunks, Mai, a number of possibilities, and one constant.
Relationships: Future Trunks Briefs/Future Mai, TruMai - Relationship, Trunks Briefs/Mai
Kudos: 10





	Before and after, between

Babysitting Bura was an activity Trunks participated in mostly as a favor to his mother. There were a million other things he would rather be doing; he was nineteen years old, a second year college student, and experienced enough in life to know the difference between the things he wanted and the things he did not—he had his ideas and his wishes of how his life should go and who he wanted at his side while he achieved it. Thankfully, and truly he was so incredibly grateful, the girl he had in mind for his future didn’t seem to care at all that their present was often wrapped up in caring for his (admittedly charming) baby sister.

“She’s like a living doll,” Mai told him once while they were playing the part of the audience in a ballet entirely of Bura’s creation. It had a complicated plot and repetitive choreography and Trunks was not interested in the performance in the slightest. He was, however, interested in Mai and his girlfriend loved to indulge Bura and in turn the little girl loved Mai. It was all very mysterious to behold. Bura was generally a bashful child who liked to hide behind their father whenever unknown personages were about, but she loved Mai and was not pleased unless she had shown the older girl all her latest acquisitions, be it toys or lip balms or dress up clothes, and she was known to cry outright when they went on dates without her. Trunks understood his sister well on that level; he might also cry if someone told him Mai was going to go out and have fun without him.

It so happened that Bura was with Trunks and Mai on a windy day in late October, her newest toy—a bright red kite to match her favorite coat and the ribbon tied in her hair—clutched tightly against her chest as she ran excitedly ahead of them. Watching her go was entertaining, at least. She was obsessively careful not to get too far away from them, constantly checking over her tiny shoulders as if to be certain they were coming.

“Don’t go in the street,” Mai called out as they came to the edge of the park. Obediently and like magic, Bura came to a stop and patiently waited for one of them to hold her hand so they could cross the street. She swiveled her head expectantly between Trunks and Mai where they approached and the coffee shop on the corner where they were meeting Goten and Pan. As usual, Trunks was baffled.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?” Mai said coyly, as if they had never once had this discussion.

“She listens to you every time, the first time,” he pouted and Mai laughed and squeezed his hand, her crimson lacquered nails grazing gently at his skin. She smiled beautifully as she explained again the simple truth:

“It’s because she likes me more than she likes you.”

“Is that so,” said Trunks. He pretended to mull it over like it was new information and pressed the button for the crosswalk.

“Definitely,” Mai teased as Bura scuttled to her side to hold onto her other hand.

The signal changed and they hurried across the intersection and down the street to the cafe. It wasn’t unusual for them to meet up with Goten like this on weekends. Goten was often obligated to his brother and sister-in-law much like Trunks was obligated to his mother and their weekends wound up dominated by the whims of deceptively strong little girls. Bura and Pan were individually high maintenance but together they could be redirected to play with each other and mostly leave their caretakers alone, or so it was always hoped. Trunks opened the door of the cafe for Mai and his sister and they slipped inside and out of the wind. Goten and Pan were nowhere to be seen. 

Almost immediately Trunks found himself in possession of Bura’s kite while she pressed her nose up to the glass of the bakery case and eyeballed the treats within. He sighed and told Mai to order his usual wet cappuccino and went to deal with the nuisance.

“Don’t put your face on it, Bura,” he said, waving her away from the case. She responded to his criticism by grabbing his arm with both hands and hanging off him like dead weight. Her head tilted back and she began to beg.

“Can I have a cake pop? Please? Please, please, please?”

“A cake pop?” Trunks repeated, glancing down his nose at his utterly petulant sister. Her chin was wobbling in a very fake sort of way, which was ridiculous since she was in no danger of not getting a cake pop. He began to swing his arm and Bura along with it. “Are you sure you don’t want carrot cake?”

“That’s a vegetable!” she giggled. “I want a cake pop!”

“Then order it yourself,” he said and Bura buried her face in his leg, suddenly embarrassed and unwilling to speak at the mere thought of addressing the barista waiting at the end of the pastry case with Mai to complete their order.

“Bura,” Trunks urged, nudging her gently while Mai covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Bura refused to budge and Trunks glanced quickly between Mai, the barista, Bura, and the annoyed-looking businessman in line behind them. “Bura, please.”

Bura didn’t respond so Trunks handed off the kite to Mai and scooped her up. If she wanted to act like a baby then she would be treated like one, although this was hardly a punishment since Bura was instantly comfortable and happy again the moment she was picked up. It was absurd and someone laughed.

“Is your daddy bullying you?”

Bashful again, Bura hid her face in the collar of his jacket while Trunks stared at the barista with eyes bigger than dinner plates, her playful accusation bouncing around his skull like a screensaver without anything to stop it since the word ‘daddy’ pushed out every other coherent thought he had ever had. He felt his face, his ears, his neck, all heat up and turn red with embarrassment. Beside him, Mai blushed, too. Somehow they had been mistaken for a family. Which they were, he guessed, but not _that_ kind of family. Not a mom and dad and baby kind of family. Not… not yet. Trunks swallowed hard while his face burned.

“She’s… she’s five years old,” he sputtered helplessly. “I’m not bullying her.”

As if that were the problem with what she said. The barista smiled a fake customer service smile and Trunks realized she did not care if the kid was five or if he wasn’t her father or that she had just publicly shamed him right down to his core in only five words. He cleared his throat and tried to gather up some dignity.

“We also need a cake pop,” he said in an unwavering voice. Bura leaned up close to his ear and whispered some instruction. “A pink one,” he added.

“Will that be all?”

The barista was talking to Mai again. Good. Trunks took Bura to sit at a large round table far away from the counter where he could neither see nor be seen by the barista. He tried to calm down; it was just a stupid mistake—it was even kind of funny as far as misunderstandings go. The problem was how it caught him off guard, he decided. That was it. 

Mai joined them at the table a few moments later and Trunks studied her face covertly, looking for any sign of how she was feeling about the situation. He saw nothing amiss. A faint dusting of pink over her pretty face, adorning her sharp cheekbones and reaching towards her ears, was the only indication that something compromising had transpired. Trunks knew the determined look in her eye; they were never going to discuss this, and that was fine by him. She sat down in the chair beside him and presented Bura with her prize.

“Your cake pop, little princess,” Mai said fondly.

  
The honey in her tone was something that couldn’t be faked and Trunks was less surprised than he might have been five minutes before at the bubbling affection welling in his chest. He knew its source now. He had enough experience in life to know what he wanted. Brisk autumn days with Mai spent with little blue haired children were definitely somewhere on his list, although he rather hoped they would have black hair and maybe, possibly, be better behaved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to [Breezytealy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breezytealy/pseuds/Breezytealy) for the beta shakedown to help get those last superfluous words and stray commas outta there.


End file.
